BOY IN “PILL BOX”

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 733, 5 August 1929, Page 13

BOY IN “PILL BOX”

STRANGE ERRANDS TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH "PAGES" IN REAL LIFE Few who have organised a corps of boy messengers to deliver parcels and escort children to and from school can expect such an adventurous life as the District Messengers of London To the London boys each day brings its fresh task. At any moment they may be called upon to execute a commission that might take them to the ends of the earth. The bright, alert District Messengers are one of London's institutions. They have flourished for 40 years, and the exile home for the first time after a score of years spent in one of the Empire's outposts would be the first to recognise that in appearance the boys have not changed. For men and women fashions have

altered, but these boys still wear the old-style pill-box cap at the same old jaunty angle that the boys first enrolled in tbe corps wore so proudly. “Many strange errands are performed by our boys,” said one of their chiefs to the “Sunday News” recently. "They have the reputation for swiftness and reliability, whether taking a dress suit to Monte Carlo or delivering a contract by hand in New York. “I myself—yes, I was a messenger once—had some odd jobs to do.' I remember once I was on late duty at a branch office when a reveller who had been dining too well came in. He asked for a boy to conduct him to the Continent. For the moment we did not take him seriously, but after he had told the manager he was anxious not to fall again into the clutches of a certain clique, who found him an easy prey, the job was accepted. “He handed over all his money and valuables, and, after I had found him shelter for the night at some Turkish baths, I called for him the following morning soon after six. "I have never met anyone who was so glad to see a District Messenger. I helped him to pack, took him to the station, and got the tickets, and I was only satisfied when I had got him safely away and over to the Continent. daggers "There was a vogue at one time among theatrical producers, when they had a page or messenger in their plays, to call him Jaggers. That was out of compliment to one of our boys whose exploit took place nearly 30 years ago. Jaggers covered 8,000 miles in IS days, and actually beat the mail. His mission was to take messages—it has been said one was a proposal of marriage—from an American novelist temporarily resident in London to friends in New York, Philadelphia and Chicago. “Two or three of our boys have been on errands to New York since then. One of the more recent of these journeys was successfully undertaken by Daniel Rudge, who took over ! £5,000 worth of gramophone records jto America. On the other side Rudge had a perfectly royal reception, and i was feted everywhere. He was met ! by the brass band of New York mesj sengers, and even Mr. Walker, the ! famous Mayor of New York, invited i him to the City Hall and warmly coni gratulated him. Honoured By Sultan “The Sultan of Turkey honoured i another messenger. This lad, C. J. \ Hill, had to escort a valuable colli9 ' dog to Constantinople, and in recogni- | tion of the able manner in which Hil! performed his task, the Sultan conI ferred unoa him the Industrial Order ! of Merit. “Our boys are open to take on any work from giving babies an airing in the park to buying penny toys from kerb traders at Christmastime for a loreign potentate. They have posed for the films, piloted a motorist acrosa London, taken part in a street search for a lost £I,OOO pearl, sat up with sick persons, paid bills in Paris, aeled as an attendant on a foreign tour lasting six weeks, and been loader to shooting parties.”